Come Home
by moonshoespotter101
Summary: Arthur never realised what he had, until it is no longer with him. Merlin struggles to deal with the loss of Freya all over again, and for once, he needs Arthur to be there for him, no matter what they might face together.
1. Chapter 1

Merthur – Come Home

Arthur Pendragon stared out of his chamber window, watching the ripples of moonlight shine and glitter across the cobble courtyard, and the tiny flakes of snow floating down to rest upon the tops of the houses down in the village.

Beyond the walls of Camelot, a border of trees lined the horizon, trees that Arthur knew like the back of his hand, but that ,until now, had never felt so alien. So dark.

So... consuming

Ready to engulf anything or anyone who strayed too close to them.

He traced the line where white fields met the edge of the trees.

It had been several weeks since Merlin had disappeared into those woods.

He promised he wouldn't be gone long. Just some... things he needed to take care of.

Flashes of his conversation with the boy flooded the young king's mind.

How he was so sure of himself. So confident in the lies he was telling his master, like he had done it a thousand times before.

'I won't be gone long, I promise.'

All said with a grin and a casual joke about Arthur's incapability of surviving without him. All the usual prattle.

But something was off.

Not right.

Arthur had noticed it instantly, yet didn't think to question it in any way. What his manservant felt or did was not of much concern for him, so why should he worry himself about it?

Because.

What happens if questioning that slight difference meant that this servant would be here right now?

What happens if the fact that the king didn't worry himself with that minor detail, meant that he would lose something he never realised he had.

Something that, until recently, he had always taken for granted.

He blinked.

He didn't realise it would bother him so much.

How much he would notice the... emptiness of his chambers.

No constant whining.

No annoying background noise, that had become.. strangely comforting.

No Merlin.

If these past weeks had taught him anything, it was that Merlin was no longer a mere servant to him.

He was his friend, and he refused to deny it any longer.

He was tired of justifying his obvious affection for the boy, trying to make out it was simply because he was a good servant.

He cared for him more than he would like to admit, and now all he wanted was for him to come bounding into the room, without knocking of course, apologising a hundred times over and making up a million and one excuses for his extended absence.

Until then, a kind of energy radiated from the king. An energy that had settled upon him and had grown stronger each day that Merlin was gone.

Worry.

Concern.

Fear.

He had no way of knowing which of them it was. But he knew that only the return of his closest friend would relieve him of it.

_Just come home, Merlin. _

_I don't...care what you've done. I don't need to know._

_Please, just come home._

Arthur closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the ice cold glass that stung his skin like needles.

What he wouldn't give for him to emerge out of those woods, grinning like the idiot he was.

_Come Home._


	2. Chapter 2

_Merlin looked out across the lake, his eyes following the ripples and tiny waves as they slipped up the bank, lapping at the toes of his boots. The water, though the brightest blue whilst stationary, was now a shimmering green, reflecting every tiny ray of sunshine that fell on it's surface._

_It would have seemed odd, out of place if this were any other lake. Water doesn't tend to change colour of it's own accord, nor does it sparkle in a way such as this. _

_The faint light of the Sidhe colony traced the edges of the lake, barely visible other than __a blue light, gliding this way and that as they flew across their Kingdom._

_A flash of gold and they suddenly took a shape. They were visible as tiny fairy-like creatures, wings beating so fast they were transparent, as they flitted in every direction._

_Merlin had more than enough trouble from the likes of these creatures, but after years of mutual understanding, neither meant the other any harm. He was left to sit on the grass, staring out across the lake, eyes scanning, probing, pleading for any sign of the girl he knew inhabited the Lake of Avalon. _

_The battle between Arthur and Morgana had long since ended, and the warlock had been trying to find an opportunity to slip away from Camelot the minute everything went back to normal. The hope that Freya might still be alive burned inside his heart painfully, until he just left without hardly any explanation at all. Arthur would have to make do without him. He was sure the prat could look after himself for a few days._

_The journey to the lake, a trip that under normal circumstances would have taken at least 3 days, was cut short, as he had borrowed a horse before he left. He told himself again and again that it wasn't stealing. He had every intention of returning it as soon as he got back._

_Said horse neighed softly behind him and nudged his shoulder with her nose, reacting to the waves of magic that radiated off the boy, fuelled by his desperation and happiness to the possibility of seeing Freya again._

_He had placed Excalibur in the stone the day before, so he couldn't use it as a way of communication, nor could he use the Fisher King's gift, as it was used and the water lay in the cave in the Forest Of Arisaid. It had served it's purpose, and now the water was merely water. No longer the gateway that had saved Camelot._

_But seeing her in that portal ignited a fierce hope in Merlin's heart, the hope that maybe, after all that had happened, Freya was in some way still alive._

_He stood up and walked over to the reeds on the far side of the bank, where a small wooden boat was stationed, hidden to all except those who knew it was there._

_Merlin climbed into the small raft and whispered to the water. The boat started forward, gliding through the water into the centre of the lake. _

_He scanned the water, trying to see past the deep green that prevented him seeing far underneath the surface, searching for something, anything._

_The boat circled around every inch of the lake, but there had been no indication that there was any other life other than himself and the Sidhe that continued to skim across the water, occasionally flicking tiny splashes of water at him if he sailed too near._

_Merlin sat back in the small boat, his face set in quiet sadness. _

_He thought it too good to be true._

_He sighed and brought himself back to the shore, casting one last look back across the shimmering waters._

* * *

><p>'Sorry, Sire but- what do you want us to do?'<p>

Arthur sighed and straightened his back. 'I know it's stupid and slightly unnecessary but he's been gone for longer than I would have thought and I just want you to meet him as he comes back. Or if not, find him and find out what the delay was.'

Leon nodded, and left to prepare the horses. Percival, Eylan and Gwaine remained, glancing at each other. Gwaine spoke up.

'Where did Merlin say he was heading off too? Maybe we could meet him there. It'll be hard to track him after this long.'

Arthur avoided the knight's gaze slightly. 'He didn't tell me. He just said it was important. I'd go myself but I can't really leave Camelot on such short notice.'

'No worries. We'll find him. Poor bloke probably got lost or something.' Gwaine joked, but Arthur knew him well enough to see the concern in his eyes.

He mocked bowed to the King with a wolfish grin and followed after Leon.

Arthur shook his head, a small smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. The knight had never really got the concept of how to address a King. Luckily for him Arthur thought far too highly of him to bother about it enough to comment.

'Elyan, Percival. Help Leon prepare the horses. I want you to leave as soon as possible.'

They both nodded. 'Sire.' Bowing, they followed Gwaine out of the throne room.

'What do you think has got Arthur so worried?' Percival asked when they got out of earshot further down the corridor. 'He hasn't been gone that long.'

Eylan chuckled. 'This is Merlin we're talking about. I don't need to tell you how much Arthur worries about the boy even when he's _here_.' They laughed and walked companionably down to the stables.

* * *

><p><em>He sat on the wet grass; his horse long left him, with his knees tucked up round his ears and tear tracks staining his pale skin. The lake was still just a lake, the water rippling and pushing up against the bank in gentle minute waves. The boy stared out across the shimmering water, eyes not moving, not even shuddering as he watched, waited.<em>

_Some part of him knew that it was futile, that there wasn't any hope in seeing her again, but there was also a part of him, consequently the much stronger part, that was stubborn, determined, that refused to leave the lake side and accept that they would never meet again._

_Somehow it felt like there was something he was missing, something so glaringly obvious, something he felt foolish to have overlooked. The water was still green, not the normal brilliant blue. That had to be something, hadn't it?_

_He fought an internal battle with himself, struggling against his gut and his logic._

_The wind whistled through the trees in rhythmic patterns, soothing his thoughts but in no way deterring them. The leaves shivered in the autumn chill, and each had frost at its tip, the first signs of winter._

_A violent shudder erupted through Merlin's skinny form, breaking him out of his trance and suddenly making him aware of the bone-numbing cold that had surrounded him. He hadn't even noticed._

_With a sigh, he unbent his legs and stretched them out in front of him, flexing his arms and neck in an attempt to rid him of the frozen blanket that had settled upon his limbs as he sat. He stood slowly, cautious to not damage anything whilst rising. If years working as the assistant of the court physician had taught him anything, it was the cold was deadly when underestimated. The last thing he needed was splintered shins._

_The grass he had been sitting on had flattened; some blades had even cracked underneath his weight due to being completely frozen into sharp needles of ice. Merlin drew his gaze once more to the lake before him. His frozen eyes melted as a fresh batch of hot tears spilled over and traced down his cheeks._

_'Freya...'_

_His shaky whisper carried out across the surface of the water, circulating throughout the reeds beside him, to every corner of the Lake of Avalon. The name was repeated in hushed voices, as if helping it carry, delving deep underneath the crystal surface, seeking out, and searching for the name that had been called so desperately. The Sidhe heard and continued the message, skittering all over, whispering her name over and over._

_Nothing stirred._

_Merlin closed his eyes to stop any more tears leaking out from underneath his eyelids. He had been here for hours, maybe even days. He had no concept of the time that had passed, only that in all that time he hadn't had even an inkling that Freya would come back to him._

_It was time to stop._

_He had to stop._

_Eyes opened again and they were bathed in a furious gold, laced with fear and coated with grief._

_'Please make it stop.'_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note:__ Although this is set after the end of Series 3, Arthur is already King and married to Gwen. Lancelot is gone, having died the same way as the beginning of Series 4, and so there has been no betrayal by him and Gwen. Only mentioning it because some may have picked up on the out of order events. _

* * *

><p>The lake was far out from Camelot. In fact, Merlin wasn't even sure that it was still within the Kingdom. It had been a place of pure solitude for him over the years, always the same water, the same mountains, the same tranquil feeling that ghosted over its surface.<p>

So it wasn't surprising that King Arthur, after searching for days over the entirety of his lands, returned to the castle once again, alone and ragged.

He slipped off his horse and handed it silently to the stable boy. Marching up to the castle, he was considered with confused and slightly anxious glances from the villagers, as they wondered what had happened to make their King look so... worn. Arthur ignored them all and ascended the stairs within the castle to his chambers.

When he burst through the doors he was met with the startled yelp of George, who was folding his clothes in neat piles into the wardrobe. They stared at each other for a moment, one nervously and the other with a face void of expression at all. With a defeated nod, Arthur walked over to his bed and threw himself down on the covers, his head in his hands.

'Is there anything else, Sire?'

'No, you may go, George. Thank you.'

The door clicked shut and the King was left alone. The muffled sounds of people walking up and down the corridors, talking and laughing from outside his window, echoed and broke the eerie silence. If he strained his ears, he could even hear the distant clang of his knights as they trained on the field at the bottom of the castle.

When they had come back empty handed a few days ago, guilt and failure written clear on their faces, Leon had organised extra sessions to keep their minds from wandering. They all felt responsible for not being able to find Merlin and bring him home, and Arthur was grateful to Leon for the distraction.

Gwaine had completely lost his easy going grin, it having been replaced by a constant shadowed expression of fear and worry.

It was unnerving to see the bravest men in all of Camelot looking so... scared.

Quiet, steady click footsteps approached his door, stopping briefly before opening it and entering. Arthur smiled and rose from the bed. 'Guinevere.'

Gwen said nothing, but looked upon him with searching eyes. Her face crumpled slightly before she regained her composure and made her way to her husband's side.

Arthur stood and wrapped his arms around her, placing his forehead on the dip in her shoulder and letting out a heavy sigh.

After a long moment, Gwen sniffed and released him, wiping her eyes on the sleeves of her dress, before stopping herself quickly. She still hadn't gotten used to her new fine gowns, and she often forgot that they were much easier to spoil then her previous dress that she used to wear everyday. She smiled convincingly into her husband's sad eyes. 'We'll find him. You know we will.'

Arthur gazed down at her, and returned her smile lovingly. He bent down and placed a kiss on her lips, pressing his forehead against her own.

A minute went by before he spoke.

'I know. I'm just worried about what it is we'll find.'

* * *

><p>Arthur rode out further this time, outside the borders of Camelot. The knights had tried to talk him out of it, pleading to let one of them go instead, at least they would be much less likely to be recognised. Arthur understood their concern, and he knew exactly what the consequences would be if he were caught. However, nothing would deter him from going, alone and in disguise, over the border in search for his lost manservant.<p>

Arthur had been riding for near enough two days straight when he found it.

The lake had not changed from when he had last crossed it in search of Morgause all those years ago. The water sat still, like glass as it reflected the small beams of light that shined down upon its surface. He felt a slight pang in his chest as he recalled who he had been here with before. He turned away from the Lake of Avalon and returned to his horse, who he had left tied up by the tree line.

He stroked the beast's mane softly, dragging his hand right over its nose as he allowed himself to reminisce the last ten years.

Merlin had always been there. It seemed impossible to remember a time that he hadn't been. Every danger, every foe Arthur had ever faced, every bad memory and every moment of weakness, he was never alone. There was always a presence by his side, never giving him any more than he needed, never giving less. He always stood by the King's side, never once abandoning him when he needed help the most. He almost felt safer with Merlin nearby, though he could not for the life of him think why.

_I'll be where I always am, protecting you._

Arthur laughed softly under his breath. He never realised how true that statement would become, even after years of friendship between his servant and himself.

So where was he now? How come he had left, seemingly for no reason at all, with nothing but a horse to keep him safe from the dangers of these woods? Arthur suddenly felt his chest constrict as he considered something that until now, had strangely never even entered his mind. What if Merlin had been attacked? A scrawny, weak boy with absolutely no means of defending himself, riding through the woods all on his own. He was practically a moving target.

He needed to find him. He would find him, bring him home and put him in the stocks for the rest of his _life _if he had to. He'd lock him up, shutting him away from the outside, preventing him from ever running off again. He would keep him safe inside the castle, where Arthur knew where he was at all times.

Giving his horse a decisive pat, the King moved to swing himself back onto its back, only to have something catch his eye through the reeds by the lakeside. He swore his heart stopped as his caught the tiniest glimpse of a strip of red cloth floating in the water, unravelled and crumpled from where it had sat around Merlin's neck.

* * *

><p><em>His body had long since gone completely numb. He no longer felt the sting of cold every time the water rose above a dry part of his body. Only his face wasn't submerged as he lay on his back on the ice cold crystal waters that licked the sides of his face and rocked him soothingly from side-to-side. <em>

_His clothes were past soaking, now floating around him like dark jellyfish, moving in synchronisation with the water movement. His hair was frozen, the cold seeped through to his skull, trickling over his brain and stilling his thoughts. _

_It was so peaceful._

_The woods made no sound and the birds did not sing. Not a thing stirred on the bank behind him and not a sound was heard from the mountains in the distance. Even the Sidhe had left him in peace, returning to their homes far beneath the surface of the lake, not leaving even a trace that they had been there at all._

_Merlin continued to float; his eyes crusted shut with the cold and his body limp and resting. He would appear dead to many, and insane to the rest, but he knew the limits of his own body, and understood that he had time yet before he needed to get out. Every so often the chill got too much and sent sheering pain through his skull, probing into the nerves of his brain. It was almost enough to break him out of his trance, but over the last few hours he had just dismissed it with a flash of gold behind his eyelids and the pain reseeded once more. _

_A small voice inside his head that sounded an awful lot like Gaius chided him for being so careless, telling him to get out right now before he killed himself. However, he recognised the familiarity of the scolding and how it was more exaggeration and concern than actual fact. So he remained where he was as the sun went down low behind the White Mountains, and the night crept up on him from across the Kingdom._

_Finally, he prised his eyes open again; his pupils had constricted so far, it stung to expose them to the light, even just of the moon above his head. Merlin tilted himself forward and he gently turned upright once again. His brain felt as though it was being drenched in lava as the blood seeped back into the rest of his body. Attempting to flex his fingers, Merlin found that he still could not move, and so waited patiently for the blood to reach down to his arms and legs._

_His toes didn't touch the bottom of the lake, so he had to make do with swimming back to the bank. He had drifted quite far out, further than he had thought, and the exercise near enough killed him. His head whirled and he experienced head rush after head rush, until he wanted to be sick with the feeling. He somehow reached shallower water and was able to stand, his legs supported by the water that was still up to his neck. Breathing slowly and closing his eyes again, Merlin tried to calm his throbbing head. He inhaled deeply, only letting the air out when his lungs cried out for it, and even then he released it slowly, deliberately, until he felt his body relax once more._

_He waded out from the water and stepped onto the bank with unsteady feet. The cold air that surrounded him felt like a furnace, melting the ice from under his skin, ridding him of the pain that he had only just started to become aware of._

_His clothes still clung to his skinning frame like a lifeline, but as he reached around his neck, he found it bear, not covered by the comfortable old material of his neckerchief. An irrational stab of sadness flared up inside him. He really liked that scarf._

_Having no other means of getting warm, it slowly started to dawn on Merlin how much trouble he was actually in. He had no horse, no money to hitch a ride with, and was practically blue all over, with only the exception he was sure of his scarlet red lips that had just started to regain some heat._

_Suddenly, the numbness that consumed him minutes before was gone, and he broke out in a series of extremely violent shivers. He gasped for air as his teeth chattered against each other so vigorously that he feared they may crack. No matter how he tried, he could not stop his shaking and in the end, had to sit down on the hard grass to stop him falling over. _

_The sick feeling came back again, but this time it travelled throughout his entire body, biting at it with sharp, cruel stabs of pain. He whimpered, trying to force his mouth closed, but to no avail. It was near enough torture, and he knew that it would not end until he had warmed himself to burning. _

'_F-f-f-for- forbær-f-' _

_Physically unable to speak the words that could warm him, only managing to make the tiniest flicker, before it extinguished and died, leaving only a thin trail of smoke rising up from where it had sat, Merlin was left with absolutely no means of protection or source of heat._

_He hugged himself fiercely, still unable to stifle the tremors that rocked through his body as he sat on the wet bank by the lake. He was exhausted. His eyes drooped and the adrenaline that had fuelled him before had long since left him. But he couldn't sleep. His body fought to keep him awake, still vibrating his limbs and muscles to borderline ridiculous levels. He wished It would stop. That he could just sleep. Just escape this agony that kept him from his dreams. Just... let me sleep._

_He was mildly aware of his head hitting a sharp rock as it fell, before everything went blissfully black._

* * *

><p>Thankyou for reading :)<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur lifted the material from the water, turning it over in his hands, observing the marks and tears of each corner. He cursed himself for not knowing the difference from how it looked normally to how it appeared now. These tears seemed older, but after the garment had been lying submerged in the lake for so long, Arthur no longer trusted his own judgement.

He lifted his head and scanned the entire perimeter of the lake, seeking out any sign, wisp or slight indication as to where the hell Merlin was. The discovery of the boy's treasured neck scarf wasn't giving Arthur a great deal of hope.

As his gaze passed over the far right of the clearing, he spotted a small heap on the ground. Arthur peered through the dark night air in an attempt to see it better.

It appeared to be a pile of material or wood, he couldn't tell from this distance, that sat just metres from the cold waters edge. With a grunt he climbed out of the shallows and jogged over to the unknown object with his heart thumping in his ears. If this was a pile of Merlin's clothes, he knew that the chances of seeing his friend alive were next to none. On a night such as this, every item of clothing would be a potential lifeline. Without any at all, Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat, Merlin would freeze to death in minutes.

As he neared, the outline became more prominent, slowly taking some sort of shape. Arthur frowned.

The second he saw the dark mop of hair that perturbed from the blue material of his friends tunic he started running, his stomach twisting in a terror. 'Merlin!'

He got no answer and, as he collapsed down next to his fallen manservant, he quickly saw why.

The boy's eyes were closed, and his whole body deathly pale. His raven hair was wet, but not just with water. Arthur wanted to retch as he withdrew his shaking hand from Merlin's head; it now covered in blood from a vicious gash on the boy's crown. Arthur shook the boy gently, trying to pull him from his slumber, if only just to comfort the King that he was still alive.

Merlin didn't stir. The blood on his forehead trickled down his cheek and curved down the side of his lips. Arthur wiped it away hastily. The colour only made Merlin's pale skin more frightening, and Arthur was already petrified he was too late. 'C'mon Merlin, c'mon...' He shook him more vigorously, prising his eyes open, only to have them stare back at him, blank and unseeing. The King felt despair creeping up on him, but he doused it back down swiftly, not allowing himself to panic any more than he was already.

More blood was spattered on the rock beside him, clearly the source of injury. It wasn't small enough for someone to have deliberately smacked him around the head with, so Arthur figured he must have fallen and knocked himself unconscious. Utter _idiot._

With a smooth gesture, the King had Merlin's head on his lap as he tried to locate the worst of the injury. It was hard, the blood and the boy's seemingly endless mop of hair made an accurate examination near enough impossible.

Gaius. He needed Gaius.

Arthur quickly lifted his manservant from the wet grass and strode back over to his horse, being careful to support Merlin's head that had already started bleeding once more. The King cursed under his breath as he secured Merlin to the front of the animal, and climbed on behind him, keeping the boy pressed firmly to his chest. With a kick and a click of his tongue, the horse began cantering back through the woods the way Arthur had come.

* * *

><p>Merlin hadn't awoke by the time night fell, and Arthur began to get more and more frustrated with the slow pace at which he had to go. He knew that he should set up camp and wait until the light of the morning before continuing, but every time he would think about stopping, he would look down at his servant's lifeless face and push his horse on, faster through the dense trees.<p>

It wasn't long before it became almost impossible to see. Every direction looked identical, and soon the King lost track of where he was supposed to be going. Hissing in frustration he slowed his exhausted horse down to a trot, then to a slow walk, then to a complete stop. Something inside him made him slip off its back, and forced him to make camp. His heart screamed furiously for him to carry on, but something in his mind made him unpack his bedroll and start to clear the leaves to make a fire.

He couldn't explain what had come over him; it was like he wasn't even in control of his own actions any more. Finally, he lifted Merlin to the ground and placed him as near to the fire as he dared,before settling himself so he curved around the boy's back, trying to warm him up as much as possible.

The King sighed and shifted so he could look up at the stars. They twinkled brightly in the cloudless sky, shooting ones flashing across his vision at irregular intervals. Eventually his eyes began to droop and so he curled up against his manservant's back once more and allowed his heavy lids to drop and fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Merlin opened his eyes to the darkness, eyes blinking in slow motion as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. But his mind fogged over, like it was stopping him from remembering... something. He felt immediately as ease, not minding in the slightest what detail he might be missing. He wanted to close his eyes again, but he didn't, still locked in a strange sort of bliss that lifted all his burdens from his chest and for the first time in a long while, he felt he could breathe.<em>

_The darkness stirred, and swirled in a beautiful mist that clung to Merlin's skin like silk, and it was at this point the warlock realised he was naked. A dull sadness swept over the very nerve endings of his brain. He had no recollection of where his clothes might have been, and he did really like that scarf. _

_The mist continued to move in slow, circular motions around him, and it took him a moment to realise they were making shapes. Wisps of dragon's tails and knights on white stallions. They made the boy smile, and he wanted to reach out and touch them as they hung suspended in the air. But as he made to do so, they melted away, back into the dark, and the mist left his side. The loss made him want to weep, and so he did, tears streaming down his face and falling down onto his bare thigh. He would have been surprised at his open display of emotion, but he somehow already knew that this place would allow no secrets, and so he did not think it odd at all that he couldn't control himself as he wept freely where he sat with his feet curled up underneath him._

_The retreating mist twisted, making a larger shaper further from Merlin's side. Within seconds, the boy was on his feet, as the figure of the Lady of the Lake stood before him, glowing with a soft blue light and smiling hugely at him. 'Merlin.'_

_The warlock ran to her, unashamed and crying out with joyous disbelief, and wrapped her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest and burying his face in her beautiful dark hair. She clung to his shoulders, her face turned upwards as she pressed a kiss to his face. The mist remained, radiating off her body and in the presence of the boy, began to wrap itself around him too. It locked them together in spirit and in body as they embraced. Time did not pass, because it did not need to. This place was a place where such things were unimportant, and so when they pulled back and the woman gently wiped the tears from the warlock's face, not once did the concept of time plague their pure minds. _

_'I have missed you, Merlin.' She whispered, her gaze never leaving his pale face._

_Merlin's eyes feasted on her, sweeping over her features like a man possessed, as he continued to cry though, he did not even notice he was doing so anymore. He expected his reply to come out cracked as he felt he had not used it in millennia, but the voice he heard was clear, and full of emotion. 'Freya.'_

_The woman's smile, grew larger, her lips parting to reveal pristine white teeth that had not an imperfection on them. 'You found me, my warlock. As I knew you would.' _

_'Freya.' Merlin's lips trembled as he swept his fingers across her soft skin. 'I was so afraid. I thought I would never see you again.' _

_The Lady held his face in her hands, and felt a surge of warmth in her heart as he leant into the touch. 'I am so sorry, my love.' The boy's eyebrows furrowed a fraction, silently asking her what she meant. 'I came to you before only to help you to save Camelot. I cannot truly come back to your world, for my life there is over. I exist here only because of you.' She stroked his face with her thumb, her eyes shining with love. 'You saved me, my love. Allowed my spirit to live on and to stay by the Lake of Avalon for eternity. The Lake, by the mountains.'_

_'But you have been here, alone, for all this time.' Merlin cried. 'I came back so we could be together. To find you again so we could stay here forever, just like we always wanted.' _

_'But it could never have been, Merlin.' The Lady's features turned desperately sad, and it broke the boy's heart. 'We were never destined to be together. You were never meant to be mine.'_

_'I would never be anyone else's.' The boy's hands made their way down and cupped her face. 'I will never belong to anyone but you.' _

_She nodded, gaze never straying from his. 'I know, my love, but there are others who need you, even more than I. There will come a time when those who you protect will understand how much you mean to them, and you must stay by their sides, no matter what the cost.'_

_Merlin shook his head fiercely. 'No, I can't. I don't want to do it anymore. Please.' He gasped as more tears spilled over his cheeks, 'I don't like it, Freya. Why, why can't I just be happy? Why can't they let me leave? Why do I have-have to-' _

_She pulled him to her chest as he sobbed, shoulders shaking violently as everything just finally came out. This place had finally allowed him to excess his emotions in a way he hadn't in a very, very long time, and the weight of everything he had had to deal with over the years just escaped without his permission. _

_And it hurt. _

_They sunk down to the floor at some point, as she held her warlock through his pain. It erupted from his soul and seeped into the air around them, slowly, but surely, releasing Merlin from his agonising prison. _

_'It will be over soon.' She murmured into his raven hair. 'I promise you, it will get better. So much better.'_

_He continued to cry shamelessly, at ease being so vulnerable in her presence. Even with the King of Camelot as a close friend, he had never felt as safe as he did in her arms._

_After what could have been lifetime, or merely a few minutes, the boy had no more tears to shed, and he just lay her arms, as his breathing returned to normal. Images of those he had lost, his best friend, his father, the knight to whom he owed his life, flashed past his eyes and he knew now that he could finally say it._

_'I miss them.'_

_'I know.' She kissed his crown, stroking his hair softly with her fingertips. 'I know you do.'_

_They sat in solitude, not needing any more words to communicate with one another. Merlin did not move from her lap, and she had not the slightest desire to move him. _

_Eventually though, her fingers stopped and Merlin stiffened. They had run out of time. _

_The Lady slipped from Merlin's grasp and stood, before reaching down and guiding him to his feet. They gazed at each other for a short while, before her lips parted and she placed her hands on the back of his neck._

_'You must go, Merlin. They need you. Though they may not realise how much just yet.'_

_Though he had been freed of the pain that had rotted within him for far too long, her words still struck a cord in him, and he couldn't stop his words, though he knew they would not help. 'I don't want to leave you.'_

_'I'm so sorry, Merlin.' Tears began to cascade down her beautiful face and she tightened her grip on his neck pulling him closer to her. 'I wish it could be different, I wish we could stay here and forget about everything else. I wish...'_

_'Shhh,' Merlin's fingers stroked her tears away and he leant down and captured her lips in his own. There wasn't much time. He knew that now. Too soon he would have to leave her, not enough chance to tell her everything he wanted to. To tell her much he loved her, how much it hurt to know she wouldn't be by his side whilst he battled through his life alone, how much he hated his destiny and that he would give it up, throw it all away, if It meant they could be together. _

_But there was no time. So he poured he spoke without words, kissing her because he would never have a chance to again, telling her everything at once, desperately holding on for as long as possible before he was ripped from her side._

_And he knew she understood. She would always understand him, the way no one else ever had._

_'You have to leave.' She still cried silently as she smiled up at him. 'You mean everything to me, and I will always love you. My love, my Merlin.' Pressing one last kiss to his forehead, she held his hand as he slipped away, fingers clinging to hers for as long as he could before... _

_They slipped from hers and he was gone. And she was alone once more. _

_'My Merlin.' She whispered brokenly to the mist, as it swirled back into the air, and disappeared. With a light push off of her naked feet, she floated upwards toward the surface of the Lake, and melted back into it's waters with a glow of soft blue light._


	5. Chapter 5

The sounds of life filled the King's head long before he woke. Birds sang their hearts out to welcome the morning, fluttering in their nests as they searched for more material to protect their chicks from the crisp, frosty air. No wind stirred through the closely compact trees, making every sound echo eerily across vast expanses, drifting from the tops of the mountains, right down to the quiet land of Camelot, where it circled the two men sleeping soundly on the soft forest floor.

It had kept them safe from any dangers that passed through, steering away bandits and soldiers that were in danger of stumbling across the young warlock and his King.

Men were not the only ones who knew of what the future held, and how it would effect the land as it was known. Even the trees and all of nature were perfectly aware of the beauty the reign of the once and future king would bring, and they did all they could to help fulfil the destiny that had been written in the stars since the beginning of time. The compassion and distress they felt from the King had radiated through the entire forest, pulling awake the silent but constant presence of the ancient magic that lived in the trees and rivers. They soothed the burdened man's heart, filling his conscience and allowing him to rest whilst they watched over Emrys. They let no harm come to either one as they watched the warlock's dreams play out on his face, waiting until he calmed before taking their leave, back into the depths of the woods where they settled back into the frail fabric of nature, sweeping through the land like whispers before falling silent once more.

A soft wind began to pick up, whistling through the trees like a soft siren call, murmuring in the ears of Arthur Pendragon, gently pulling him awake. The warmth from the morning air melted over his arms, caressing the faded scars from years of reign and smoothing over the soft hairs on his calloused skin. The king's eyes opened, and he blinked sleepily at the sun that seeped through the leaves, filtered a light green where it fell on the boy beside him.

Merlin had turned over during the night, and was now facing him, his face relaxed and chest rising and falling with steady breaths, free of the stutter that had been worrying Arthur so much the night before.

Merlin's skin was softened by the dappled sunlight, making him almost appear to glow, captured in a vision of ethereal beauty. The dark circles and worried lines that had plagued his skin for so long had vanished, making his face look as youthful as a boy's.

His raven hair was clean, rid of blood and frozen water, and the wound on his crown was no more than a pale scar, hidden from view. He dreamt of nothing, and everything. Swirls of meaningless colour and pattern, along with flashes of hazy images that shifted and materialized slowly underneath his eyelids. They melted into his brain, painting pictures of a castle, a castle that was so familiar and so _safe _that the warlock fell even deeper into his own head, comforted by it's projection and completely at ease.

Slowly, the image started to come to life. The streets of still people began to shiver, and suddenly each speck of colour was moving of it's own accord. The bells that hung suspended in the tower clanged noisily, each beat drumming through Merlin's head as if it were utterly real. It was Camelot, but not as he knew it. Somehow, the scene was different. Aged.

The walls and the courtyards were all the same, yet did the stone look slightly more faded? The tops of the battlements a few inches lower? Three figures were standing on a stone balcony overlooking the town. Merlin fancied he would quite like to see who they were, and so his conscious mind honed in on them, their faces becoming clearer. Merlin wondered if you could feel surprised in a dream, as he certainly felt so now.

These three people were the figures of the King and Queen of Camelot, as well as their personal Court Advisor and Sorcerer, all standing together, looking over their Kingdom with a fierce pride. They looked so regal, so mature and powerful, that Merlin almost felt the impulse to bow down to them, even though to do so in a dream would be truly ridiculous. Instead, he immersed himself in the image, trying to make sense of something he did not yet understand. His mind was somehow slow to catch up with the dream and make sense of it. Who were these people that stood within Camelot's walls so comfortably, a look on each of their faces that made one believe that this was their home, and that it would always be theirs, and that they would never, ever, allow anything to take it from them? Who on earth could care so much about a place, that the glint in their eyes held the infinite lengths they would go to protect it?

And when it hit him, though it was painfully obvious, he almost shocked himself awake.

The stranger's were not only King and Queen, but they were _his _King and Queen. His two best friends, still standing side by side, defending their Kingdom with the passion that had never left either of their hearts from the day they were coronated.

He has looking upon his home, but it was a vision of a new Camelot, ruled over by a new Arthur. An older, wiser Arthur, who's smiles were genuine as he watched over his land and people. This Arthur looked worn, but in the best way possible, happiness and pride shining in his eyes. The dream panned out, focusing on the two figures standing either side of him. To his left, an older Guinevere stood, her kind face radiant and regal as she looked at her husband, her gaze burning with a fierce love and loyalty that had not faded, even after so many years.

Merlin saw himself to Arthur's right, and even in his sleep, his heart flared with pride and joy. Joy that even after his destiny was clearly done, after he had made Arthur into the once and future King he was always meant to be, even after all that, he was still standing by his friend's side, watching his rule, helping him fight, where he belonged.

The future warlock turned his head, and met the King's gaze as he turned his. An impish grin stretched across his face and Arthur's eyes shone, as he returned it with a smile that was full of such gratitude and respect that it gave Dream Merlin a burst of hope for the future. A future in which he wasn't just Arthur servant, not just an idiot who dropped his dinner on the floor and occasionally made him laugh, but his friend, advisor, someone that after years of jeers and carefully guarded complements, insults and slightly awkward heart-to-hearts that they silently swore never to mention, after denying their protective love for each other for so long, Merlin was someone who the King could say freely and unashamed, was the closest and most loyal companion that he had always been destined to have standing by his side.

Present day Merlin smiled in his sleep, as the image soaked through, imprinting in his mind forever, there as a constant reminder that one day, it would get better. That his time will come, as Arthur's would, where he will not need to hide or protect him from the shadows. A time where he will be honoured and respected for his magic, rather than feared and despised, not just by his King, but by the whole of Camelot.

Arthur watched as Merlin's sleepy smile etched it's way onto his face, drinking in the sight and the relief that his friend was still alive. His heart felt lighter in his chest, and he felt a smile of his own pull at the sides of his mouth.

Swallowing, he turned away from Merlin to look back up at the branches above his head. He closed his eyes, letting out a long, loud breath.

He had been so close to losing him. Again.

He frowned at that, his eyes still shut. It wasn't right. _Arthur_ was supposed to be the solider, not his servant. He was the King, the one that was meant to keep his subjects safe, including Merlin.

Except.. it didn't. It didn't include Merlin. It never had.

Time and time again Arthur would ride out, mind filled with troubled thoughts about how he might not make it through the night, but safe in the knowledge that he was doing this so no innocent citizen of Camelot would have to suffer through the consequences of some great foe. He would fight evil with the bravest and best knights in the land, all of whom had sworn allegiance to their King and all were ready and willing to die by his side, his sword solid at his thigh, his armour heavy on his shoulders.

And Merlin.

Why was it, that no matter what happened, where they went, what they faced, the idiot was _always _there? Passing underneath Arthur's radar, even though he was perfectly aware of his servant's presence. Not once did he ever stop and think that maybe Merlin shouldn't be there. That it wasn't part of a servants job to ride out to every enemy by his masters side, to throw himself into peril without a seconds thought.

It wasn't _right._

He never gave Merlin any armour, any protection whatsoever par from his cocky remarks and jeers. He just assumed that he wouldn't need it, as Arthur would be doing all the fighting, not Merlin. But then why was he there at all? If all he did was apparently run away and hide? Why did he always insist on coming? Arthur knew the answer, of course he did. Merlin was loyal. So ridiculously loyal that it struck fear into the King's very heart because Arthur had the strongest hunch that it was Merlin's devotion to him that was eventually going to get the boy killed.

Merlin had proved time and time again that he would sacrifice everything for Arthur, and gladly follow him right into the depths of hell if the man ever decided to pick a fight with the devil.

And Arthur would let him. Because no matter how much he claimed to only tolerate his manservant's presence, he knew that he needed Merlin more than anyone else in the kingdom. Needed him more he needed his sword, or his shield or his armour. What it came down to, was the fact that he would gladly walk straight into battle without any of them if he had Merlin by his side.

Merlin had this incredible ability to make Arthur feel so... safe. Confident. Completely in control of himself. The boy could talk sense into him when everyone else had declared it impossible. Because for some reason, some bizarre, stupid reason, a part of Arthur always wanted to listen to him. Always wanted to see the logic that he put forward so simply. Merlin's words made so much sense, and even if Arthur didn't listen to exactly what he suggested, just his calm, controlled voice could clear his head enough for him to make a decision. There was something that lingered in his manservant's voice, an undertone so subtle that he hadn't even noticed it for the longest time. Something that flooded his face and his words whenever Arthur doubted himself, whenever things got so bleak that the King truly believed nothing could be done. It was faith. Such, unstoppable, unwavering _faith _that Arthur would do the right thing. That he would bring Camelot back from an impossible situation. Time and time again, no matter what happened.

And Arthur loved him for it.

Not in the same way that he loved Camelot or Guinevere, but in a another way entirely that was solely unique to Merlin. He loved that the boy stayed by his side constantly, fought alongside him at every turn, did everything he possibly could for his king and his friends without ever expecting anything in return. He loved his smile, and how he was always greeted with it every morning without fail, even if it was a bit late, and how it would make his day just that bit better. Merlin was his rock, the one person who never changed, never faltered in who he was or who he loved. He was brilliantly predicable in all his unpredictability, keeping Arthur grounded when he sometimes thought everything would just sweep him away.

Arthur turned to stare at the boy sleeping soundly on the forest floor, body expertly curved to rest comfortably on the harsh, hard earth. After years of practise on hunting trips and royal visits that he lay at the knights' feet on nothing more than a thin strip of cloth, with only his skin and a frail blanket to protect him against the bitter cold air of the night. And yet he never complained. Well, he moaned and bickered and whined about how he was treated but it was taken as seriously by himself as it was by everyone else. His words were said with a grin and a witty insult. It was almost as if he enjoyed his life as a servant. Enjoyed the fact that he was treated with no respect other than what his friends gave him. He got by solely on his ability to make friend-for-life companions, and Arthur was in doubt that he was definitely one of them. From all the complaining the king did about the incompetence of his servant he never once wished Merlin away, never dreamed of setting a future that he was not in.

It would have been faintly ridiculous, for a man such as Arthur to revolve the future of his kingdom on his manservant, if said manservant was anything other than the most incredibly selfless man in the whole of the kingdom. And if he wasn't loved and adored by any that had the honour to know him, which was most of the land to be fair. There wasn't a place that the boy went without leaving a huge mark on the place, be it with the people, the animals or simply the land that they walked on. Arthur had noticed more than once when they went hunting alone together that Merlin looked so completely at home in the presence of nature and the woodlands they explored. The leaves and the wind seemed to sing happily as the boy walked amongst them, grinning at nothing but making everything else seemed brighter. On one occasion, Merlin had been laughing so hard at something Arthur comment on about Gwaine's new love for maple trees that the clouds had actually parted within seconds and the sun had beamed through the treetops onto Merlin's very head.

Things like this obviously weren't normal, and Arthur sometimes wondered if there was something else at work other than his servants simple gift of making the darkest day light again, but he saw no reason to pursue it. If this was any kind of magic then it was the single most beautiful type he had ever encountered.

Maybe it was time. Finally time change his attitude towards Merlin, and simply give him everything he ever wanted and deserved. Which was a hell of a lot more than the position of the king's manservant. For years his loyalty was unexpected, sincerely appreciated, but eventually, taken for granted. It was common knowledge that Arthur would not have been able to do half the things that he had without Merlin's guidance, and it was truly despicable that the boy had gotten no other recognition par from the occasional pat on the back or, in even rarer circumstances, a stray hug from the king. Arthur was supposed to look after all his subjects, not just the ones that he did not know personally. He looked after Gwen and his knights well enough, giving them everything they deserved and more, yet Merlin was always somehow overlooked. Just left there in the corner with his hands placed behind his back in respect for the superiors that surrounded him everyday. His friends, his _best _friends, slowly growing higher in rank, higher above him as the years went on. His best friend; Queen. The man who considered Merlin _his_ best friend; Knighted. Where did it end?

For all that the boy had done for Camelot, there should be people standing like that in_ his _presence. Bowing low as the man who had saved the kingdom more times than anyone could count had entered the room and was amongst the presence of mere knights and council members.

He should be honoured, admired. The people of Camelot should looked upon him and beam with pride and love for their protector, for their Lord. Because that was what it all came down to. Merlin's deeds had earned him a status far higher than the position he already held, and yet no one seemed to want to give it to him.

Well no more, Arthur resolved. One day, Merlin would get the recognition he deserved, the recognition he never expected, but that had been years in the making. It was time. Time to make a change. Time to move on into a new way of living, of seeing the world. He knew that harsh times lay ahead for both him and Camelot alike, and it was his duty as King to lead his kingdom into a new age that he felt was looming on the horizon. And he would do that with Merlin by his side. Not as his manservant, but as his friend and equal. He would stand alongside Arthur like he always has, but with the authority to finally put forth his own input into the running and development of Camelot. Because is was much Merlin's home as it was Arthur's, and it was about time the king realised that there were others who wished to have a say in how it was managed.

Suddenly, something in the King's chest lifted, and he let out a shallow gasp. A weight he wasn't even aware was there melted away and he took an deep involuntary inhalation of air, his eyes widening as something wonderful stirred within him, leaving his heart thumbing audibly in his head. A rush of sound flooded his ears, as if they had been blocked his entire life, only now to be cleared, the same with his nose, mouth and eyes. Everything was suddenly so much _sharper. _His eyes stung as they focused on the trees above his head. They saw and locked on to every moving shape, every bird and every tiny fly, them having no hope of escape if the king had decided to shoot them down. His ears pricked up and he could hear everything from miles around. The impossibly silent scuttle of foxes in the undergrowth, and the soft padding of hoofs from deer three miles away. Every sense was heightened so significantly that the Arthur that had been lying in the grass mere minutes ago would have accused it of being magic.

However, that Arthur no longer remained in the clearing, no longer lay by his manservant's side, watching over him as the morning slowly etched it's way into the world.

In his place, lay the Once and Future King of Albion. The one destined to unite the five kingdoms and return magic to all the land. The man who was going to go on to be and create great things, and the man who was going to be remembered by every age, until the end of time.

Arthur blinked, a shiver shooting all the way down his spine and back up again, leaving him tingling all over.

He was so tired.

He closed his eyes, and within seconds was in the deepest sleep of his life, as his body continued to work on him, tiny wisps of magic that had been kept out by prejudice and denial for the whole of the young man's life, finally able to enter and intertwine with the remains of magic that had always been inside of him. They ignited those remains again, and sent Arthur's mind to rest whilst it flooded every crevice of his being, setting free the true, legendary king that had always been there.

Arthur slept, having never being so content, having finally set destiny into motion and completely unaware of the long-awaited fate he had just sealed.

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><p><em>Any errors are my own. Thankyou for reading.<em>


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin opened his eyes two days later. The world that greeted him was not of much difference to the darkness he had inhabited whilst asleep. Although he could make out the ceiling of his and Gaius' chambers, the water in his eyes blurred his vision, and he had not yet woken up enough to be in control of any other part of his body. Slowly, his head cleared and feeling returned to him in an uncomfortable rush. His limbs seemed to be pinned to his bed, his arms lying heavily by his side, his legs immobile under what seemed like hundreds of blankets.

With a groan, he tried to sit up, only to be instantly pushed back down by the figure that suddenly appeared at his side. The force took the breath out of him and he winced at the pain that shot up his spine.

'Ow,' he mumbled.

The figure said nothing, disappearing again, out of his field of vision.

Merlin tried to wake himself up a bit more, but for some reason it was like a thick layer of fog clouded his mind, keeping him from attempting any other movements, as well as preventing him from speaking. Instead, he just closed his eyes again and forced a low groan from his parted lips, the sound growing louder as he tried to keep it up for as long as he could.

He was about to give up and just fall back to sleep, when he heard a sharp sigh from across the room and a voice said, 'Fine, fine! You're awake, you're awake.'

Merlin managed a grin as Gaius came into view, looming over him with a deep, annoyed frown on his face. The warlock once again pushed himself further up the bed, and was again forced back down. He huffed and let out a frustrated moan as his head hit the pillow. His mentor's face twitched, before setting into an even harder scowl. 'No. You can stay down, young man.'

Merlin grunted something, which sounded an awful lot like, why?

'Because you are stupid and irresponsible and I am very, very angry with you.' Gaius retorted, picking up a vial from the desk beside him and not-so-gently pried open his ward's lips. Merlin tried to resist but he simply didn't have the energy, so he allowed the potion to be poured down his throat, swallowing dutifully with a weak grimace. He waited for the second potion that Gaius always gave patients after a particularly fowl tasting medicine, but the man didn't make any move to administer it, instead returning to his seat a few feet from Merlin's bedside and taking up the already open book that lay on it.

The boy shifted and Gaius' eyes snapped up, his eyebrow arched. 'Don't you dare, Merlin.' Another groan, louder this time. 'No, you can forget it. You deserve everything you get. Anything else is too ruddy good for you.'

Merlin closed his eyes miserably, and fell back down again.

After a few moments, he mumbled quietly. 'M'sorry.'

The old man said nothing. Merlin waited a few minutes before sighing softly and he let the fog drift back over his mind again.

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><p>The second time he woke, his head felt considerably clearer, and he didn't feel anywhere near as sore. Hesitantly, he leaned forwards, pushing himself up carefully, waiting for Gaius to swoop in and stop him. But he didn't, so Merlin sat up fully, blinking in the bright light that beamed in through the window. He could feel beads of sweat trickling down his face and so swung his legs out of his hot covers and placed his feet on the floor. The stone, though normally painfully cold, felt like it gave out it's own heat, burning his feet in the areas the sun had been resting on it for hours. He stood, shaky on his feet but otherwise okay, and made his way over to his room, determined to get out of his bed clothes and find out what had happened.<p>

Just as he reached the stairs, however, he heard the door behind him bang open and a sharp, 'Merlin!' before he felt firm hands clamp down on his arms and he was being steered back to that God for saken cot.

'No, no! Gaius, please, I'm fine! Don't make me lie in that thing anymore!'

The old man ignored his protests and made him sit down on the edge of the mattress. 'You don't need to lie in it, just sit and rest until I tell you otherwise.' Gaius retrieved the same vial as before from the table beside him and held it out to his ward. The warlock made a face, looking up at Gaius sombrely before holding his hand out to take it.

'Drink..' Gaius ordered.

Merlin held his nose between his thumb and forefinger and tipped the vile contents down his throat with the other hand. He shivered and coughed, water pricking in the corners of his eyes. Something else was pressed into his hand, replacing the first bottle and Merlin downed it immediately, sighing in relief as the burning dulled and a honey-tasting liquid laced his throat.

'What happened?' he asked after a moment.

Gaius stared at him, a dangerous look flashing over his features, one that made Merlin sure that the man wanted nothing more than to ring the boy's neck. Instead, Gaius just deflated and sat down at Merlin's side. 'Oh nothing,' he said, tiredly. 'You almost drowned. That's all.'

'Oh.'

'Yes, Merlin. Oh.'

They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the sounds from the streets below, filled with life and laughter, the people blissfully ignorant as they got on with their day. Merlin briefly wondered what his mother was doing at that moment, and made a mental note to go and see her as soon as he could.

He turned to Gaius and found the man was already looking at him. His eyes flickered away shamefully at the worn out look on his mentor's face and the deep worry lines that traced his already wrinkled forehead.

'I'm too old for this, Merlin.' Gaius said quietly, his hands moving to settle on his lap, carefully folding so he could keep a grip on his frail fingers. Merlin knew him well enough to recognise the defensive gesture, and his heart pulled tight at the knowledge that it was him who was the cause of it. 'You cannot keep doing this to me. I care about you too much.'

Merlin stared at the man who was practically his father, observing his tired eyes and heartbreakingly defeated expression. He had to fight to keep the tears that filled his eyes from falling and he frowned, ducking his head.

Gaius was right. It wasn't fair to put anyone through what he had put him through, just because Merlin couldn't find a decent outlet for his pent up emotion. The man had done everything for him, sacrificed everything. He deserved at the very least to be considered in whatever plans might congregate in Merlin's crowded mind. The warlock knew full well that he did this type of thing far too often, run off without letting anyone know where he was going, keeping secrets he had no right keeping, especially from Gaius. He loved him far too much to see him weaken and break each and every time something happened, to Merlin himself or anyone else.

Without saying a word, Merlin turned and gently pulled Gaius into an embrace. The older man returned it automatically, but his arms were loose and stiff. The warlock didn't release him for a long moment, not until his mentor finally sighed, his breath shaking, and his hold on Merlin tightened, until he was clinging to him, his head buried in the boy's shoulder. Merlin felt himself getting worked up, his eyes burning, but he just allowed the tears to fall as he closed them, holding Gaius in his arms.

That was how Arthur found them some time later, and he did not interfere as he stood by the door, silently watching. Merlin sensed he was there and their eyes locked. The King stared solidly back, not flinching away or averting his gaze in embarrassment, like old Arthur would have done. Merlin gazed into the man's eyes and saw a strange sort of light ignited within them that hadn't been there when he had left Camelot all those weeks ago. But a feeling deep of inside him that reassured that it was nothing to be concerned with. On the contrary, there was something about it that caused his heart to leap, and his magic to rise up in the back of his neck, prickling below his ears, behind his eyes. It was something that made Arthur look aged, mature, and infinitely wiser.

It was what Merlin had seen in the eyes of the Arthur in his dream, the one who ruled over Camelot with pride rather than arrogance, and who's leadership and strength sculpted him into the King that filled the pages of storybooks millions of years into the future. The King who would be remembered in all his glory, the King that would inspire generation after generation as his tale was told to children of every age, until the end of time.

Merlin felt his lips pull up into an involuntary smile as he saw Arthur stand before him, his heart filled with a strange, subtle feeling of awe. The familiar jeer was gone from the King's expression, the spark of sarcastic demeanor lost in his soft gaze. He was a man who looked straight into Merlin's eyes, his own holding the weight of the world within them, filled with nothing but relief and a fierce respect that sent sparks of electricity up Merlin's spine. All he had ever wanted was for Arthur, _his_ Arthur, to look at him like that, to see him for what he was and appreciate what he had done, what he could do, what he_ would_ do, for him and for the whole of the kingdom.

It was in this moment, that Merlin realised that he finally knew he could tell him. Tell Arthur just how far from useless his manservant was, and how the magic he possessed existed only to serve and protect him. It had always belonged to Arthur anyway. It never responded quite like the way it did when in Arthur's presence. It was like the man was the power source for his gift, and so every piece of sorcery he performed was stronger, more accurate and more true when he was fighting alongside his King.

The warlock had never felt like he could trust Arthur more than he could right then, with him standing almost expectantly, with a look on his face that told him there was nothing for him to fear. Not now. Not when things had changed so much, for him, for everyone. They promised a new future, a better one. One in which all manners of sorcery and witchcraft were dealt with fairly and with a great deal more understanding.

This was it. This was how it started. With this one motion, this one final display of complete trust and loyalty. Merlin's final proof that he loved his King, and that he could do anything, be anything, to keep him safe.

Merlin held his hand out in front of him, behind Gaius' back.

It was happening. After so long, after everything between the two of them, after so many sleepless nights and awkward heart to hearts, it was finally happening.

He whispered the words into his open palm.

Destiny was unfolding.

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><p><em>Any mistakes are my own, please feel free to let me know what you thought of this story.<em>

_Thankyou for reading._


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